Ink Stained
by penguinefluff
Summary: There was something about her blond hair that was so familiar and faint, a new feeling stirred in the hardened fighter...... Yeah, I know Mary Sue, Ror Romance NO!, blah blah, but I had fun, no regrets.
1. Prolouge

A/N: A RorXOC fan fic for the ever awesome Watchmen, of which I do not own. Ditto for the rest of the chaps. I hope you all like it, please review.

* * *

A small girl sat by herself under the geo-dome playground equipment. She was playing doctor in the center, clutching a brown teddy bear.

"Let me take your pulse, Mr. Bear." She put two fingers on its arm and made a very stern nod.

"Hmmm... ok, let me check your forehead." A snicker sounded. Her blonde hair moved as she looked behind herself.

"Heyyy Abbyyy what's up?" the oldest one of the group of three said slyly.

"Playing Doctor...." she said quietly, turning back to her teddy patient, trying to ignore their laughter.

"What? You're being such a baby...." he stepped inside the dome and his friends followed suit.

"You're not going to be a doctor when you grow up, your blond and blonds are stupid. You have to be smart to be a doctor."

"So!" she cried indignantly, "You can be anything when you grow up so I can be a doctor if I want to!"

His friends ooohed at her defiance. The oldest grabbed her teddy bear and dashed for the outside. His lackeys stopped her pursuit. The boy held the bear over his head like a trophy.

"Uh Oh! Is the baby angry I took her baby-toy away?!" he said sardonically.

"Give it back, Michael!" she screamed. The blonde girl kicked one of the boys and ducked under one of the bars to get her beloved teddy back. Michael put an arm out and held her at a distance. She struggled against him as the boy she kicked came up behind her with a contorted face of fury.

"Stupid bitch!" The injured boy grabbed her glasses from her and kicked her back.

"Wait! No! Please, I can't see without those." She rose and reached out only to be shoved down again.

"Hey!" said a fiery haired boy walking up to the chaos. "Let her go!"

"Oooh! Hey look, its Walter coming to save his girlfriend!" said the oldest to his friends. No sooner had he finished his sentence, than Walter punched him in the face. He fell to the ground and put a hand to his chin. His friends rushed to his side and asked if he was okay.

"I'm telling!" the boy shouted while choking back a sob. They ran off.

The red head walked up and gave her glasses back to her. She placed them back on her head and looked upon the face of her hero. A pale face with freckles and dark colored eyes with short red hair that stuck out from his head looked down at her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Ye-Yeah...." she got up."Thank you." The boy named Walter turned to leave. The girl threw herself at him in a sweet embrace.

"Get off!" he wiggled away and ran from her. She watched him run off and hugged her teddy bear.

"I don't care if he has cooties, I still love him."


	2. Lost

Abby snapped back to reality when the siren went off.

"Code Blue!" Someone yelled. She was in the thick of it now, a mess of arms and movement.

"Charge to 640!" Abby said loudly to an assistant. Joel Robinson's life was in her hands. The monotone of his heart monitor rang onto infinity. The blond held the steel pads of the defibulator. A nurse placed gel on them.

"Clear!" Dr. Linde shouted above the clamor as she rubbed them together. All hands were pulled away. She placed one over his heart and the other on his side. His chest seized and fell back. His heart monitor spiked and continued to flat line.

"Again!" she yelled. The pads were recharged and applied again. The young man was pulled upward and his head fell to the side. A wave of panic washed over her entire being. Abby said nothing and pressed the steel together to place them back onto his dead body.

"We've lost him …" Someone said. Abby charged the pads again and shocked his heart over and over again.

She suddenly tossed the pads to the side and interlaced her fingers together. A sweaty latex gloved palm was pressed to his bloody chest. She rammed herself down three times and ducked her head down to recessutate him.

"Doctor." Abby ignored any distractions around her. Blonde strands of hair strung before her grimaced face from effort. A hand was placed on her shoulder; it held crushing weight and she felt herself break on the inside. Abby's hands rested on his still warm body. Her faculty began unplugging the equipment. The deafening tone went silent.

"Time of death; 11:46 pm." Was all she said before turning to return to her office.

Joel Robinson's death was on her hands now. A file needed to be reported. A crying man holding his face moved into the newly unoccupied bed. Abby had a long night ahead of her, with no end in sight.

"Dr. Linde!" a voice shouted behind her as she was walking out. Abby turned to see her former intern, James, running up.

"Hey, what's up?" he said enthustically.

"Oh nothing much, just heading home… Someone has to bring home the meow mix." Abby was notorious for her bad jokes around the hospital. And this time, she hoped her bad joke would be enough to deter him.

James forced a laugh. "That's great, I had no idea you had a cat. Cats are really great pets, so independent, affectionate and-"

"Yeah, it's great having a pet that can keep up with an ER doctor's schedule." Her body began to pivot as she inhaled to say goodbye.

"Hey!" His voice made her want to wince. Abby stopped and smiled at him. James looked at her soft shoulder length light blonde hair, her pretty caramel-brown eyes and her small curvy frame and felt his cheeks grow red with effort.

"W-Would it be alright if we went out for some coffee later?" James said looking away. "If you wanted to, that is…"

She nodded, still smiling; "We'll see…."Abby turned and rolled her eyes.

It was another chilly October night. Abby could see her breath in the air as she tucked her arms closer to her body. She liked that the holidays had all passed. She wanted to blame her distaste for the cheery season on the terrible experiences she had as a cashier in a department store, but her discomfort with holidays ran deeper than a loathing for repetitive, overplayed Christmas songs and materialistic frenzies.

She had grown up in an orphanage and never had anything close to a family. She had friends at work and was well respected by people who met her, but such acquaintances could never cover up the hole she felt in her heart.

Abby was jubilant when she went to her first thanksgiving party with a friend's family. That is, until she realized how awkward it was to be around so many strangers while trying to fit in. it was not long until she saw the other family members grudges against one another. Abby felt ashamed and excused herself early, claiming to have just remembered some imperative work that had to be done by tomorrow.

After that, she always refused any invitations to any sort of social gatherings. At work, whenever it was someone's birthday party, Abby would pitch in for a cake and a lavish present. It was her way of making up for her poor social graces. She would stop by say her congratulations and promptly leave.

And so coworkers and patients stopped asking her if she wanted to come to their children's birthday party, or weddings, or baby showers- knowing that the answer would always be a simple and smiling 'No, sorry. I have work.'

Abby wanted to believe that she wasn't putting up a wall. There was a detachment she felt with the world, it never felt like she really belonged anywhere. She wanted to blame it to her immunity disorder that prevented her from being around children when she was very young. Abby believed that since her time developing social skills were so badly shortened as a child, she became some sort of a social retard.

She grew out of the severity of her disorder and became healthy by keeping it under control with a few medications. Abby was still never comfortable around people though.

And there was James, that curly haired new doctor that was earning his residency at her hospital, formerly being under her as an intern. He was strong arming his way into her life and she was finding it harder and harder to keep his out while still being kind. Abby held no interest in romance; she found the notion of it as a mere form of escapism for the average young girl. Linde seemed to prefer burying herself in work to escape her misery and self loathing.

The air was painful on her face and Abby decided to take the short cut home. Her feet begged her in throbs of pain to get home as soon as possible. She never liked taking the alley way home. The back of a bar that was there had a very bad reputation_. I swear twenty percent of our patients come from that place alone. _Just then she heard voices coming from sed alleyway.

"… **Tell me the truth."** Said a dark voice.

"I did-!" said another. His sentence was cut short by the sound of something hitting something hard and a stifled groan. Abby walked up to a man in a long coat holding another up against the tall brick wall adjacent to the bar by his twisted arm. In the poor light, she could barely make out the brown color of the man's coat.

"**Try again."** Said the raspy stranger.

"H-Hey you!" She managed to find her voice. "Stop that! Leave him alone." The perpetrator made a shallow noise and turned, placed his hands in his pockets, and walked into the darkness. The other man collapsed on the ground holding his arm close to himself. Abby rushed over to his side.

"Let me see it. It's okay I'm a doctor." She reached out her hand. Other than a bit of swelling and a tendon that was soon becoming inflamed, he was fine.

"You should be alright. Just put some ice on it from the bar and don't do any heavy lifting for the next couple of days." The man rose, still holding his arm.

"My name is doctor Linde, if you need anything don't hesitate to call me. I work in the emergency room at the nearby hospital." The man said a quick thank you and opened the bar door. The quiet air was momentarily blasted by the pounding music from inside in the brief instance when the door swung open. It closed, leaving the quiet to return and Abby alone.

"Home at last…" she relieved with a sigh as she removed her shoes at the entrance to her small apartment. There were not many decorations or furniture, inside it was plain and white. Some would say that it barely looked lived-in. A purr and the warmth of a furred body rubbed up against her leg.

"Hello, Rorschach. Good boy." She bent down to pet the orange and black spotted white tom cat. Abby stepped over him as he continued to try and weave himself through her legs and walked over to the kitchen.

A meow sounded next to her. "I didn't forget about you, Rory." The blonde rolled her shoulders and rubbed the side of her neck and opened a can of tuna. Rorschach the cat purred and stretched up his body to touch his paw against her arm. She opened the can as he arched his back and knocked his body into her leg; she smiled at his antics and placed the can down.

Abby rubbed her aching head and slipped out of her work scrubs and wrapped herself in the warm covers of her bed to soothe away all of her troubles.

She walked back to work the next day. A nurse was informing her on the current patients when the hospital manager called her into his office, immediately. It was never fun interfacing with her boss.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" She said walking into his office.

"Joel Robinson died yesterday under your care, true?" he said while holding a report in front of his face.

"Yes, sir." It made her uneasy when he spoke in questions.

"And you wrote in the report that his injuries were serious?" Before she could respond, he asked another rhetorical question. "And yet, he was not placed in the ICU?"

"You see I-" a hand was held up to Abby to stop her from talking.

"The boy's mother is going to be suing us due to your poor choice of words. You are going to be suspended without pay until further notice."

She opened her mouth to protest but he merely spoke louder. "Your status as a doctor will be dealt with after this matter has been settled in court. You are dismissed."

Abby Linde left the building in a hurry, rushing past James with a raised eyebrow. She wanted to scream out loud.

_It's not my fault, I made a mistake_. _I didn't mean to…_ A flood of bile rose in the back of her throat; _He didn't even let me explain. It's his fault for giving us such shitty hours. _

She sat down at a random bus stop to quell the tears welling up in her eyes. Abby drew a shaky breath in and out. She tried staring at the dirty sidewalk. There were lines and cracks and a few black spots of old bubble gum stuck to the floor.

Her brown eyes gazed up to see a sign. _'The End is Nigh?'_ She almost wanted to laugh at the sad irony of her situation. She looked down at the homeless man holding the sign. His piercing eyes made her look away ashamed.

Abby got up and walked over to the bar by her house. She wanted a drink to forget her problems. Abby wasn't an alcoholic, the last time she drank was in medical school as a celebration with all her fellow students. She knew the health risks of metabolizing alcohol in her body, but she just wanted its mind numbing effects to drown out her misfortune.

Once inside, the side glances of many shady people peered at her through sunglasses and red rimmed eyes. Abby sat by the bar and looked at the bar tender's name tag. It read 'Happy Harry' and she noted that he did not look at all happy. She ordered something heavy on the rocks and sipped her drink. She was getting even more suspicious stares from nearly everyone in the bar, they seemed to intensify every moment of her lingering there. The rest of her drink was guzzled down and she ordered Harry for another.

"You lost?" a man with slick back black hair asked as he took a stool next to her.

"No, I'm not." She said curtly, not looking at him.

"Yes, you must be." He continued, "Because only people who don't know me disrespect me."

"Robert!" a voice called from behind that made them both look. It was the man with the hurt arm from the other day. "How's it going man?" They shook hands.

"This is Dr. Linde, she helped me out yesterday." Robert raised an eyebrow.

"She did? Well, excuse me Mrs. Linde, I didn't mean to be so rude." He held out his and flashed her gentleman's smile. "We don't get newcomers too often." He had dark pink lips, dark brown eyes with a clean shaven face that smelled of men's cologne. Abby bet by the shape of his face and the light tan of his skin that he was part Italian.

The man whispered something in Robert's ear. "Excuse me, I have some business to attend to. Please have as many drinks as you wish on the house." He nodded in the direction of her newly placed glass. She held the frosty drink in admiration and nodded in his direction as he left outside the bar. The next few drinks were sloshed down unceremoniously. The fluid was cold and tasted bitter down her throat. It was not long before she felt the depressants taking effect.

Abby felt sick with herself, both physically and mentally. It was only noon when she left the bar. The bum on the street was sitting by the bar with his sign still next to him. Linde went up to him and did something she would never do sober.

"I'm very sorry sir … I just thought it was a joke, well not that you're making a joke. More like, it's a joke of my life… er.. situation, actually… Doctor's aren't supposed to make mistakes, but they do." She noticed a small cut on his hand. Abby handed him a band aid and stumbled off.

*

Rorschach Journal, October 9, 1985

Saw her again. Spewing forth a garbled mess that reeked of alcohol. She's just like all the others. Hypocrites and molesters, drunks and elitist garbage. Tonight, a step closer to uprooting the festering maggots that plague this city.

She vomited her stomachs' content before entering the house to shower and curl up in her bed. As her mind began to slip into sleep, she wondered where her cat could have gone_. _

(Reentry)

Doctors take an oath when they are sworn in to never refuse a patient. How noble. There must be pliers in the house… (the rest are brown smudges on yellowed pages)


	3. Rorschach

Abby awoke to the sounds of things being knocked over and crashing to the ground. She sat up and mumbled, "Oh you bad kitty Rorschach…" Her wild tom cat had a habit of searching for food late at night while trashing the kitchen in the process. She stumbled down the hallway with a hand dragging across the wall for stability.

She flicked on the light to find a man in the brown trench coat holding his side and blood everywhere. The crimson liquid was stained all over the white kitchen tile and counter tops. The man groaned and she rushed to his side to settle him on the ground. Years of experience in the emergency room kicked in, she opened his jacket and pulled up his shirt. There was a gaping flesh wound with a gush of red coming out of it.

Her hand went to his mask to see his pupils in case he was going into shock when an overwhelming tight grip encircled her wrist.

"**Not the face…**"

"I need to call the paramedics."

"**No!..."** there was something in the masked man's voice that made her comply. Abby went to search for her first aid kit. He grunted and shifted on the floor as she took the white case with a red cross on it over to him. Like an animal that gnaws on its own leg off to get out of a bear trap, he had his fingers deep in his side.

"S-Stop!"

"**It's in me."** he whispered hoarsely.

With a tight hand holding flashlight, she could scarcely see the point of a piece of wood that was sticking out of the inside of the man.

"This is going to hurt." She warned him. The tweezers held the tip as she steadily removed a large chunk of the wood. Abby examined it briefly and found that it splintered very easily. Dr. Linde continued with upmost precaution, taking out the remaining fragments of wood.

Her brown eyes saw his chest heave up and down in effort. Despite the amount of pain he was feeling, he made no noises of discomfort. She grabbed the suturing kit from the box and went to work closing the bleeding gash. By the time she wiped the congealing blood from his side, she noticed that he had passed out from the blood loss. Linde finished up by applying some surgical glue and placed a square of gauze his side with some tape. Her eyes spanned the kitchen and saw his blood everywhere. Her brown orbs met his swirling mask.

It was he same man with that long trench coat in the alley the other night. Rorschach, the crazed vigilante crime fighter who killed convicts, was lying in the middle of her kitchen floor. And there was his trademark mask, fleeting black marks that disappeared only to reappear as a different symmetrical design.

Abby held back the curious urge to take a peek under his mask. This was a deranged wanted criminal she was dealing with. _Correction, I'm the one harboring a fugitive, so that makes me the criminal_, she thought wryly. Why was it that she was protecting him if she knew of his murderous past?

There were less people coming in who had been stabbed by muggings or rape kits that had to be done on traumatized women. As controversial a figure Rorschach was, he was still helping the average citizen.

Abby remembered the first time she heard of him. It happened on the same day she got her little kitty. On an early Sunday morning, she was going out to get the paper. A white cat with striking orange and black spots sat on her door step and meowed at her. She blinked and it rushed inside her house. She sipped her coffee and bent down to retrieve her paper. Inside the cat meowed and lifted its tail straight and high in the air.

Linde placed the paper and her coffee cup on the table and picked up the cat. "No collar…" she muttered as she petted the cool fur of the purring cat.

"Where did you come from, cat?" It wriggled free and jumped down to the floor to meow again.

"You must be hungry…" she opened a can of tuna. The cat let a long fevered meow loose as his olfactory sense smelled the appetizing promise of food. The cat started eating it before it was placed on the ground. It was gorging so desperately, the can was moving across the floor.

Abby watched it eat and figure it was a house cat someone had lost. The cat was far too tame to be an alley cat. Its white fur had a layer of grime on it from lying on asphalt.

"I'll take care of you until I find your owner…" The cat had finished its can of tuna and licked the side of its mouth to look up at her with big green eyes.

"What is it, kitty cat?" The cat continued to groom itself. Abby felt herself beginning to really like the animal and was starting to wish it had no owner_. _

_No… What am I thinking, there's probably some kid out there who's crying their eyes out right now_. She sighed.

Abby easily admitted that she was had a condition called workaholic syndrome. The symptoms; your life revolves around your work, it's all you think of, and its all you ever do. _Having a cat around would be pretty nice… _

"In the meantime," she said shyly, "I don't think it would be fair of me to call you 'cat' or 'kitty' all the time, so I have to come up with a name for you." Linde cocked her head to one side.

"You don't seem like a 'George' or a 'Mark' and I really don't want to call you 'Fluffy' or 'Spot.' No." she smiled, "You're much too cool for that…" She tried looking around the room, trying to find something inspirational. Her brown eyes fell on the large black and bold letters in contrast to the white on the front page of the newspaper.

"Rorschach?"

The cat purred and rubbed on her leg. "It doesn't really roll off the tongue too well, but alright- if you insist." She petted his fur and felt herself smiling more than she ever in a very long time.

Linde tried to look for the owner of the cat. She put up lost pet signs all over the city and sent the local animal shelter a picture along with her address. No one called, so she kept her Rorschach.

He would often leave for the night, sometimes for days at a time. At first, she would worry and wait by the window or try to look for him, but he always found his way back home to greet her or to meow for more tuna. She figured he liked being a pet, but still wanted the independence of being able to go outside.

Linde wanted to move Rorschach from the tile floor, but didn't want to risk tearing out his stitches. The injury was over two inches wide and she barely had thread enough to close it up. She went to her room to grab a quilted blanket and spread it evenly over his body.

Abby got to work cleaning up her kitchen. She grabbed a wash rag and wiped off the counter tops while putting back a few bottles of old medicine she kept to fill her empty cupboards with something. She ran the rag under the faucet and watched the diluted, pale red fluid drain in a downward spiral.

Something stirred behind her. Linde looked to see him sitting up feeling his mask. Abby made no move or sound. He began to turn to get into a position to get up. A cat had her tongue. Rorschach's gloved hand jerked forward as it slipped on some half dried blood.

His injured condition made her tentatively take a step forward. His mask turned her way and expanded with black into a jagged form. The ink blot looked like the snarling face of an animal to Abby. She froze in place. His fists were tight as he swayed slightly on his feet. He took a step forward and fell with his arms on a counter top. Abby pushed herself under his arm and began to try and guide him to her room. He tried to shove her away.

"Please, you need rest! The stitches are going to come out if you don't lie down and let it heal." Rorschach felt a rush of blood seep out the sore hole in his side, staining the white bandage on his body. He grunted and took a wobbly step forward_. I'm amazed that he's even standing at this point. There's no telling how much blood he's lost at this point. _

They made it to her room. Linde covered him gently and made a silent prayer to herself, hoping that he would make it through the night.


	4. Why?

Rorschach awoke to find himself in an unfamiliar setting. It was hard for him to breathe, as if there was something on his chest. He looked down to see a cat curled up, snoozing content on top of him. With much effort he tossed the cat off of him. It landed on the floor with four pink paws, shook itself, stretched and walked off.

He surveyed his surroundings with a sharp eye. There was a bed, a dresser and a nightstand with an alarm clock on it. A TV tray with some toast, a glass of water and two blue pills were set beside him. A meow sounded far away. His hat, along with his coat, was on top of a lamp across the room. Rorschach looked at the bandage around his side. He peeled back the surface that had stuck to the blood and inspected the stitched wound on his side. It felt like something was biting his side with small needle teeth.

"It should heal in a few days." A blond haired woman said in the doorway. She had a long white shirt on that had blotches of blood on it with a pair of worn gray sweat pants that had faded letters of a university on them. She held a cup of coffee with two hands, white steam curled up off the top. Rorschach said nothing in response.

"I'm s-sorry that's all I could offer you, I really need to go grocery shopping." Her head motioned in the direction of the tray and smiled meekly.

"**Why?"** the grizzled voice said.

"Why?..." She knew from his tone what he really meant, "Well, I couldn't just let you just bleed to death on my kitchen floor. I'm a doctor you know, we have an oath that we're sworn to."

"**The pills…**" he said without turning his body to incline the stand.

"… are pain medications to help you out." She finished.

"**Trying to kill me…**" his deep voice said darkly. _This is one paranoid individual_, Abby joked in her head.

"Now why would I spend all that time stitching you up only to poison you?" _And why am I bantering with an insane killer that's sitting in my bed?_

A meow sounded and the cat arched his back and looked up at Abby expectantly. She looked down to smile at him and picked him up gingerly, setting her mug on the ground. She held his long cat body in her arms as he placed a paw in her face. Abby forgot where she was and shook her head, "Bad kitty, Rorschach."

"**Rorschach?**" said the masked man.

"I uh…yeah… funny story about that… I named him after the newspaper headline a while back." Her face was red and her words fumbled out, "I didn't really think about what I was doing, naming him that, I usually just call him Rory."

He just looked at her. Abby stared back, turning a brighter shade of red as time lapsed on.

The sound of a siren whirring off in the distance made them both look out the window. It was growing louder. Rorschach wanted to curse at himself for being so naïve. His teeth bared as he bent his agonized body to pull himself out of the bed.

"What are you doing?" He ignored her worried feminine voice and continued his lone struggle. Anger began to boil inside of him as she laid the cat back on the ground and reached her hand out.

"**Cops...**" his grumbled out. He didn't see her brown eyes fill with hurt at his words.

"No…" she said tightly at first. "I would get busted to for harboring you and… I'm already in enough trouble with the law…" The siren blared out after she spoke and stretched away.

An unsteady silence held its stance between them.

"I need to change your bandage now, please." Rorschach had been staring out the window expecting to see the cops pull up in the alley way at any moment. He looked at her to see that her head was down. He felt his emotional armor begin to creak for her. The soft look of her light blond hair held back in a clip made something stir inside of him. There was something about her that was so faintly familiar.

"**Sorry…**." The word slipped out of his mouth and he wanted to immediately shove it back in. She weakly smiled at him.

"My name's Dr. Linde, but everyone just calls me Abby." Her smile wavered slightly as she took a stride over to him, her cat pranced lightly on its paws with her. He already knew her name and occupation and was wary of her kind outward appearance. She moved the tray and Rorschach the cat jumped on the bed and strode his way over to him.

"Sorry, he doesn't usually act this..." she thought for a moment, "I mean he doesn't really take to strangers so readily. The last time I had company over, he was hissing up a storm." She recalled the time James unexpectedly showed up by her house. She welcomed him into her house, he marched himself straight into the kitchen. She walked in to find him backed up into a corner with her beloved kitty Rory with an arched back and a plumed tail. _I think James almost wet himself at that point_.

"**Hmph."** Was the only sound he made.

"May I see your wrist please?" Her hand was held out for him. He stared at it for a moment and put his arm in it, keeping an unyielding eye on her body movements.

"I have to admit, I was shocked to find that you were awake." She carried on the one-way conversation as she held two fingers on his wrist, between his glove and his sleeve, while looking at her alarm clock as the hand ticked. He felt himself tense up when he felt her cold fingertips on his wrist.

"You must have lost at least three pints in my kitchen alone. Most people would have needed a transfusion… 166 over 60… faster than normal." she muttered more to herself.

"Your heart rate's a little high, but normal considering all that you had probably gone through. Onto the stitches." Abby retrieved a gauze roll with some alcohol prep pads from her pocket. Rorschach was unsteady with having a stranger so close to him. She could smell the iron tang of his dried blood mixed in with a scent similar to that of a wet dog.

"I wanted to mention that I need to prescribe you some antibiotics for that wound in your side." It was only after she spoke that she remembered that she was suspended from her hospital.

"**You mentioned 'legal trouble.'**" He was trying to change the subject.

"Y-Yes," hearing his deep voice again startled her slightly, "I… it was at the end of a long shift. Few nights ago, at least I think it was a few nights ago." She continued with sagged frame.

"Joel Robinson died while under my care because of a stupid mistake on my part alone. Now the hospital is being sued for mal practices and I was officially suspended today." She licked her lips as her hands rested on the edge of the bed. Her brown eyes softened. Her blond hair reminded Rorschach of an early morning sunrise.

"He had received multiple contusions throughout his body, with several broken ribs and his face was practically a bloody pulp." Her voice sounded almost automated when she was talking about him, as if she was repeating something. Her voice changed, like melting ice.

"He was so young- couldn't have been older than seventeen… Still just a child."

"**He was no child**." Rorschach spoke solidly, "**He attacked me in a gang fight and I left him as an example**."

Abby was appalled at his calamity and remorseless demeanor. "How could you say such a thing? "

"**I was defending myself. There were many at once. He had a knife on him. Lucky I left him alive."**

Abby inhaled a shakily drawn breath. She always had this idea that he was a figure full of valor that would only use violence if, and only if, it included the harshest of crimes. It became clear to her now that he was more insane than she originally thought. _I knew the guy was crazy, I didn't think he was this nuts!_

"Did you really have to…you know… Hurt him so badly?" Her brown eyes looked at his swirling face again. It seemed to take the shape of twin, conjoined figures that were torn apart to create another image. It became quiet again.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to speak out of term." Her voice went out and it was quiet again.

"**His mother abandoned him on the streets. He turned to gangs for a family**." Rorschach didn't make eye contact with her, feeling a familiar grudge well up from his former life.

Abby cleared her throat. The truth of reality seemed to grow more warped from what they actually appeared to be. His tactics were unethical in the eyes of a doctor. Perhaps innocent little Joel was not as innocent as she thought; stuck on the streets, turning into another thug. Perhaps any remorse she held for him was actually meant for herself.

He was a paradox of good and bad. Abby watched the contrast of his black and white face as the images of human figures dances and formed unfamiliar blobs that reminded her of dark puddles of blood on a white floor. _What have those poor eyes seen in their life, Rorschach?_

He studied the graceful lines of her face, the way her jaw line shaped down, to the delicate pink of her lips to those soft doe eyes that filled him with a new unsettling feeling.

Rorschach mouth set into a sealed line and he pulled his shirt up and took his arm out of the sleeve for her to begin. Abby smiled at his change and proceeded to get to work.

"The silver lining to all this would be that I finally get that vacation I've always wanted." _Not that I really even wanted a vacation, I would never have known what to do with myself. _

She looked back at his masked face and was in awe of his strong and silent nature.

"You remind me of this one old German patient I had. He was complaining of terrible pains in his side. I tried to make a joke about in-laws and he just waved a hand at me," she smiled and continued with a bad German accent,

"'Bah! Ahmerhicaan, Yew calls that joke? Leght me tell yew 'un!" she giggled at the memory. "Sorry I can't hold that up for long…"

"A man goes into a doctors office and says, 'Doctor I have this terrible feeling.'" She pulled the spotted bandage aside and opened the square packets of pads to begin disinfecting the area.

"The doctor proceeds with the examination, right? So he goes on and says, 'I feel so lonely and lost and so full of angst. Every day I wake up and I don't feel any better. The world has become so dark and cold and unforgiving to me.' He puts his head in his hands and sighs heavily." She takes a pause to discard the one she was using and opens another.

"The doctor thinks for a few moments and says, 'I know just what you need; a few good laughs. There is a very funny clown in town tonight, his name is Pagliacci." Abby applies the last few drops of surgical glue on the tear that had opened from moving him last night.

"The doctor takes out a note and prescribes it to him while writing his bill up. The man suddenly starts to cry. The doctor asks what's the matter and the man says, 'But, sir, I am Pagliacci!''

"**Good joke**." Rorschach didn't make any eye contact as she began rolling the new white bandage around his body. She was in such close proximity to him, it made him want to shift away. But he held his ground, any sudden movements might cause the wound to open again.

"Then why aren't you laughing?" she smiles coyly at him, finally done with her job.

"**What happened to him?"** Abby's smile faded into a weakly curved line.

"He died. Kidney stone complications." Her hands clapped down on her lap. "All done! I'd give you a lollipop, but… Aha… eh heh… Ne-never mind…" Abby turned and rose. She needed to leave to give him the peace to rest.

"I need to go buy a few more medical supplies, and food and cat chow. Ror-" she caught herself. "The cat will keep you company while I'm gone." Abby left, grabbing her cup of still warm coffee on the way out.

Rorschach felt the heavy summons begin to surround him. His eye lids drooped as he felt as if his body was turning into lead, piece by piece. He suddenly sharply inhaled realizing that he was drifting away, a pressure on his chest made him fall asleep to the sound of purring.


	5. Walter

He awoke to the gentle echoes of music. Rorschach looked down to see the cat still sleeping on his chest. There was a sweet smell in the air that seemed to have seeped from under the door. He laid there for a few moments, listening to the soft tunes and enjoying the smell of food. The drifting melodies were like sweet caressing whispers to his ears, even with his face muffling them out slightly. A hallowed silence came at the end of the song. He had his eyes closed and realized that he was thinking of her.

_Why?_ She was so hard to get out of his head, a lovely bird nesting in his red hair.

He sat up, forcing Rorschach the cat to pounce off. He instantly regretted his decision, a familiar bite of pain clamped down on his side again. He let out a slow seething hiss. He roughly pulled the carefully laid covers off of himself and went over to the lamp to get his hat and coat back. Rorschach found himself limping at first but soon forced his legs out of the weak habit. The door opened to a hallway flooded with the smell of many herbs and white bare walls with wood flooring. He trudged himself through, as another song began to play.

Abby faced the back of the kitchen as she prepared tonight's dinner. Another song began to play, she found herself humming along with the song her tone was in a slightly higher tone to harmonize. She smiled to herself, _Maybe I really did need a vacation._

She had showered and changed her clothes. Now she was wearing her medical uniform, a different color from the last time he saw her in the alley way. Rorschach recognized the song.

"**Sinatra**." It wasn't a question. Abby jumped at his voice.

"Y-Yeah… I know, I know… I'm a female, give me a break."

_Mother hated Sinatra_. Rorschach thought to himself distantly.

"… The noodles are being cooked right now and I'm mixing everything together for the sauce."

Rorschach came back to reality from the pathos of his mind to hear her speak.

Abby grinned looking back at her guest, only to find that he was staring into nothing. Her smile wavered and she bites her lip to keep steady.

"I need to ask you a favor." She began stirring the pot absentmindedly. "I read in an article that you are renowned as having great detective skills, and I wanted to ask if you could find someone for me."

"**We're even**." Abby was happy to hear him agree and stared into the thick creamy sauce as the wooden spoon continued its path.

"His name is Walter Kovacs." Rorschach felt his jaw lock tight. "He has red hair and is a few years older than me."

"**How did you know him?**" the deep quality of his voice changed into a cold gravity.

"I… I was a sickly child when I was very young, spending most of my time in and out of the hospital. I suppose one could say that it was a major influence to the choice of my future career." Her brown eyes grew faint with melancholy.

"I had no parents so I was put into Lillian Charlton Home for a time. It was there that I first met him. I remember him being very smart and introverted. The other boys at the orphanage didn't like me very much and Walter… helped me out a lot." Her voice was becoming choked with emotion. Linde continued after clearing her throat.

"I went back into the hospital soon after being admitted. It was tough being in there. Alone and feeling like you were abandoned. The doctors and nurses were really nice, and yet, I just kept thinking of him. He was so mature even at such a tender age. I really looked up to him. By the time I was out of the hospital, I was in high school and I saw him again. He didn't recognize me."

"School came and went and before I knew it, I had enlisted in the armed forces as a MP in Vietnam. When the war was won, I applied at a hospital back home and was hired quickly due to my impressive resume." Abby was amazed that her life could be summarized in just a few short sentences, a single breath to her whole life.

"He was working at a tailor's shop the last I heard of him. I went to the address and found it had closed up several years back. Sorry I don't have any more information than that." Rorschach stood up.

"Where-?"

"**I'm leaving now**." He stated it with a gruff voice, it held a hint of sadness and Abby hoped she didn't say something wrong.

"But…" Realization sunk in, he was a hero of the city, not a cat she could keep confined in her house. "I understand."

"At least take these with you to help with the stitches." She left the spoon in the pot and opened a drawer to giver him her newly supplied first aid kit. When she turned around, he was already gone.


	6. Trapped

Rorschach Journal, October 10, 1985

Left for the better. Need to be more cautious when entering location. Underestimated the number of gang member as well as the potency of arms. Abby.

She will be better off without

Never forgot you, was afraid, never knew what to say. You changed so much, didn't recognize you without your glasses. Searched for you too, found nothing and thought you had moved away. Gave up.

Walter is dead, Rorschach will tell you the truth. Will keep you safe at night.

*

Rorschach watched her from an adjacent building to her window. She sat there for a long time after he had left. She washed the dishes, left the food out and read a medical text book until she fell asleep in bed. He went into her house afterward. Rorschach pulled his mask over his nose and tried some of the food and found it was better than his usual staple of pork and beans.

When he silently traversed to her room, he saw the cat that was named after him, curled up next to her.

Abby slept late into the day. She rolled over to pet her cat and pulled the covers closer to her body for warmth. The blankets still smelled like him and she wanted to breathe his scent in for as long as possible. His scent was thick and masculine. Rorschach had a strong and compact and Abby was attracted to his strong, virile voice.

The phone began to ring. Abby let the noise continue, she did not want to leave the security of her bed. It continued until she grudgingly slipped from under the covers to her kitchen. She picked up the phone and muttered a disgruntled hello.

"Dr. Linde?" spoke a voice.

"Yes, speaking. Who is this?" her voice had not changed.

"This is your company's lawyer, Mr. Caydence. I'm calling to inform you that we have set a court date and that you may be called in to testify." the man equaled her grumpy attitude.

"Yeah, ok- fine." she hung up. Abby wasn't in the mood for anything. Her life was going to total shit_. I have enough money saved up in my bank, but... If this case goes down, so will my record as a doctor. I'd be lucky to keep my job... or to get hired by a new hospital_.

Linde huffed as she ran a hand through her messy blond hair, feeling the walls closing in on her.

"I need a drink." She said out loud. "I need a really hard and nasty drink." Rorschach the cat strolled in and jumped in the window. Abby looked at him and continued talking.

"I need to get so wasted, so when I fall face first on the floor I'll think it's the wall." The cat continued to stare out the window with a twitching tail.

She showered, got dressed and grabbed a wad of cash and walked out of her house. Abby stared at the ground when she kept a fast walk and tried not to think about all her worries. It was hard, and she figured the alcohol would help. _They say it takes less than a stride from a workaholic to an alcoholic._

Robert saw her walk up to the bar door as he watched from the car. "That's her right, Jim?" he said to the man with a sling in his arm. "Yeah...."

"Is she good?" Robert asked checking his hair and teeth in the mirror.

"I went to the hospital today, they said she was the best they had." Jim answered, he scratched the cast hoping to get at an itch.

"Dr. Lint?" the half Italian asked nonchalantly.

"Linde." Jim corrected looking out the window.

Abby was sitting at the same stool. "Back again?" said Happy Harry while wiping out a mug with a dirty white rag.

"Yeah." she guzzled down her fist drink and set it down with more force than necessary and inclined for another.

"You better slow down, girlie. Drinking like that can't be good for you."

"It's ok," she said with an impish grin, "Trust me, I'm a doctor." Harry shook his balding head, not getting the reference.

"Hello, Dr. Linde." said a sophisticated voice from behind her. Abby turned to see the man with slicked black hair standing behind her.

"Good morning, sir. Can I offer you a drink?" She threw her head back to take in the second glass with a single swing. Robert smiled.

"No thank you. I have a policy against drinking before three in the afternoon."

"Suit yourself." she said with a shrug. She tapped the bar with a knuckle wanting more. Harry went quiet when he made eye contact with Robert. He set the glass down and walked to the other side of the bar.

His hand caught her arm before she could down her third shot of what tasted like jet fuel.

"Before you drink yourself to oblivion, I have a... favor to ask you." Abby simply stared at him. He was an impediment between her and the means to which she would finally relax.

"Please follow me." It was less of a suggestion and more of a strong request. Abby nodded, she felt as though she had nothing better to do anyway. Robert let go of her hand and took a step back. He bowed his upper body and languidly laid his arm out as if to show her out the door while still keeping eye contact. Abby took her chance and drank her last shot before she left with him.

Before she knew it, Abby was in the back of a black sedan while Robert drove and the familiar man with a cast on his arm sitting in the passenger side.

"Hey… aren't you that man who got ruffed up a few nights ago." Abby's head was beginning to muddle up with loss of control. The man with a cast continued to stare outside, taking in the endless passage of pedestrians on the street and the droning hum of the city.

She shook her head trying to get her bearings straight. "So what is it that you need me for anyway?"

"We need your expertise in the medical profession, Dr… Linde." He spoke slowly at the end. "You see my father had been mortally wounded by an unfortunate accident and we need your help in saving his life."

"What sort of injury is it? Head trauma? Lacerations?" Abby was expecting something petty like a mild concussion.

"No." he was as serious as a heart attack. "I'm afraid it's much worse than that." Perplexed at his remark she piped up again.

"Why don't you just take him to the hospital? If it's really that bad, then you should call the ambulance immediately." The alcohol was making her a mean drunk without any inhibition to think about what she was saying.

"The situation is a little more complicated than that, Linde." Robert paused as turned left to go down an alley.

"The less you know the better." He said ominously. The sound of all the doors locking sounded.

Abby was blindfolded by a sack over her head when they went through a tunnel not too long after Robert spoke. She was roughly passed around. Abby felt many hands guiding her towards something, she blindly tried to feel where she was going and was promptly ordered to stop. She was propped down into a chair and was the cloth bag was taken to the harsh light of a single bulb.

"Are you familiar with surgical procedures in the cardio vascular system?" said a voice. Disoriented and having al the liquor evaporated from her body she stuttered out, "Y-y-yes…."

"Give her the scans," said another male voice. A manila envelope was shoved in her lap. Abby blinked and opened it to take out several dark x-rays. She held them to the light of the bulb and inspected them carefully.

"The bullet is dangerously close to the heat and seems to have collapsed a lung. Whoever had this happen to them needs surgery immediately." Her brown eyes became adjusted to the poor light and saw Robert waiting patiently in the wings as two other unidentified males exchanged glances.

"You heard the lady." Robert spoke smoothly, "Get what she needs and do it right." He left to go and have himself a cigarette.

"Well? Hurry up," said one impatiently. He grabbed her arm and led her to another room.

"Wait… you don't understand. To do this sort of advanced surgery you need special tools and equipment." She resisted his hold. "A respirator, and a very sterile environment."

The other man grunted and opened the door they were heading towards. In it was a medical examination room, complete with a operating table, a makeshift surgical lamp and sanitary station. There was even a stand with scalpels and forceps.

"Listen Doc, you can make this really easy on yourself by not asking questions, staying quiet and doing what we tell you to do, got it?" Abby nodded, whoever these men were, they were dangerous.

While Linde washed up and donned sterile surgical gear, a balding man on a hospital bed was attached to a respirator and heart monitor as Robert stood beside him.

"How ya doing, Pop?" said Robert with a light voice. "I got the best doc in town for you, spared no expense and broke every bone possible to keep you kicking." He laid his palm against his father's hand with an I.V attached to it.

"You're about to go into surgery, Pop." His dark eyes softened at the sight of his father with a badly bruised face. "I'm going to kill that guy myself, Pop…. Break his fucking face in… I swear it." One of the men walked in and announced that they were all ready.

Robert smoothed his hair back and pulled a cigarette from the breast pocked of his tailored suit. "Good." He inhaled as he set the tip ablaze.


	7. Descending

Walter watched his mail drop from afar. The skin on his head felt funny from having his face on for so long. His usual sign was propped against the brick building next to him. Human legs swathed by, the tires of cars rolled against the cracked asphalt.

He was thinking about her again. Kovacs recalled feeling her staring brown hungry eyes on his back at times in the orphanage and feeling it unnerved him. He was bad with people and worse around the opposite sex.

Walter noticed her first. She was very quiet and always sat by herself in the playground area in the orphanage. He liked the way her light blond hair looked in the light, or the way she was so tender to her ever constant teddy bear companion while being fascinated with the dexterity of her small hands. He would even fantasize about being hurt and her gently wrapping him up like the stuffed animal.

When Mike and his cronies started to pick on her, Walter knew it was his job to step in and protect her. And when she finally surprised him with a hug, he was so startled he ran away. His heart thumped a mile a minuet, his hands became sweaty, and his face felt inexplicably hot.

Kovacs knew what had to be done. He could not risk having her in his life, she was to soft for his harsh reality. _Sometimes you have to hurt to reach a higher end_. Walter knew that he was meant to live as Rorschach to endlessly pursue and punish the filth of the city. The only form of true justice left in the city.

He felt the familiar chill in the air beginning to settle signaling the approaching night. Walter got up and dusted the grime from his pants, picked up his sign and headed toward his the rooftop where his true identity laid.

After hours of intense surgery, it was over. Abby pulled off her mask and was began taking her gloves off to wash up. Robert knocked on the door, Linde walked into the waiting room and told him that the surgery was a complete success.

"Be aware, he needs to heal for a very long time and his lungs and heart may never be the same again." She paused. "Whatever sort of job your father has, I suggest he retires soon."

"Thank you doctor, please wait in here while I arrange someone to take you home." Robert did not take her advice very well. His father was the leading crime boss of the city. No prostitute fucked, no druggie got his fix and nothing got stolen that his Pop didn't have a say in. He walked through the door and motioned for his men to come close. His eye lids closed as the images of last night played again and again.

They were making a huge deal with some fellow business men from the Far East when that masked maniac jumped in and threw the whole thing off. He single handedly killed several of his best men while injuring many more. Amongst the fire fight, his father was nearly killed. Robert explained to his men that his Pops was going to make it.

"Now that that's done, we can move onto getting that piece of shit back that did this to our family." Robert paused to look at them each in the eye.

"Here's the plan. My sources tell me that this Rorschach-ass clown ruffs people up to get his info. I want you guys to spread the word that we're going to have another meeting with those Wasashi guys tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'll gather up the boys and…."

Abby listened to their plan with a hand over her mouth, aghast with horror. She had to warn him about their looming terror. Linde turned and tried to look for an escape when the door swung open.

"Hello again, Doc." said one of the brutes.

"We're going to be taking you home now." The other finished.

Rorschach was out patrolling the lonely streets again. He noted that there were more transients than yesterday and that more litter was lining the gutter. The stout man walked down a dark alley hoping to run into a fight. He wanted to feel his fists against the face of punk again. To shake off any lingering in the agonized screams of a bad guy.

A meow broke his attention. His eyes barely caught the ghostly image of a white spotted cat disappearing behind a building. Rorschach picked up his pace and began following the cat. He turned the corner and continued walking down until he came to a cross road.

Another meow blended among the concrete and asphalt; echoing off the tall buildings. Kovacs turned left and began to go at a trot.

Jim was sitting in the passenger seat again. Robert was having a cigarette as they over looked the bridge. The two men heaved a sack into the river below and walked back. Robert flicked his cigarette off the ledge and got into the driver's seat as his men slammed the doors shut.

"You sure no one will ask questions?" said on of the men.

"Yeah," said Jim, scratching his cast again, a tint of remorse in his tone. "No family and her jobs going to shit. No one would question her up and leaving the joint."

Robert shrugged and stared the car up again. The car went silent. They all knew it had to be done.

Abby hit the steel curtain of water and woke up. There was a gag around her mouth and she struggled against the bondage around her arms and legs. She was sinking fast. The river was turning into a slosh of freezing water and ice from the coming winter.

She could not feel the cold, all she could feel was her entire nervous system burning with white-hot pain. She screamed against the gag, a stream of bubbles expanded the surface, as she kicked her legs. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as the sack began to slip off of her, the ends were sloppily tied and were falling all around her.

Abby twisted her neck, feeling her lungs cramping without air. She thrashed and kicked until her head broke the surface. She inhaled and screamed again.

Abby breathed again, her head accidently falling under water again as it run into her nose. She coughed and began sinking again. Desperate to stay alive, she doubled her endeavor to stay afloat and cried for help.

Rorschach found himself by the river that ran through the city. The cat had mysteriously vanished. He could see the city lights burning, each individual bulb that flared with an artificial shine. The yellow gleam reminded Rorschach of her golden blond hair. He sighed and shoveled his gloved hands into his pockets.

A distant shriek punctured the dark air. Kovacs body hardened as he concentrated his eyes into the black horizon. Another outcry. He could see the white froth of water from someone drowning in the middle of the river.

Abby felt her body going numb, it was becoming harder and harder to keep her head up. Her body stiffened and she felt herself immersing deeper into the icy depths of nothing. Water lapped over her blond hair and she threw her face for one last gulp of air.

She was chilling to the marrow of her bones. Her muscles were freezing over and her lungs were on fire without air. Her vision was darkening, she felt cold all over. Abby was falling deeper, she thought of him for the very last time.

With his coat and hat resting on land, Rorschach jumped into the frigid water to bear the cold with a fierce determination. The current carried him off course. A familiar sting bite down on his side as he continued swimming forward. The person's head disappeared under water. He took a deep breath ducked below. A wasteland of oblivion was below. Rorschach continued his plight onward. He saw her in the distance, her hair suspended above her head.

Her senses were on fire as her entire body trembled with great force. Abby's teeth felt as tough they were about to shatter from the chattering of her blue-lipped mouth. Her skin turned a pale white as the blood vessels on her dermis redirected its flow to the vital organs. She was suffering form hypothermia now.

She was leading against something hard while listening to something thump over and over again. She could scarcely feel herself bounding against the solid thing she was against. Abby's eye lids felt heavy, she felt herself slipping away again.

"**Stay awake….**" The voice sounded so far away**, "…Abby…"** it spoke again.

"Walter." She wanted to see him one last time. _Please God… That's all I want now. He would always help me._ The pangs of anguish reminded her of the time in the hospital rooms.

Abby looked up to see the black and white face of Rorschach staring back. Her neck gave out and she went limp in his arms again.


	8. Too Close

Rorschach had wrapped her in a dry coat and was trying to get the broken electric portable stove to work. It was still broken. He unplugged the machine and began pacing the room, to and fro, looking for something to warm her quickly. Walter looked at her curled quivering frame and knew what he had to do.

He pressed his body to her and laid an arm over her small frame. Rorschach steadied his wracking body and surging mind. _She said my name again…. Why?... Never even knew me. Was I a crutch to her sanity?_

Her flesh was a bitter cold against his body. Her clothes had been ripped off to hasten her death in the partially frozen water, he hoped that she wasn't raped. Walter was having a very hard time forgetting the terrible ominous feeling that was building up from laying next to a naked girl for the first time in his life. Their body temperatures collided and leveled before his warmth began to overtake her.

Abby was begging to feel something again. It was pain.

"**Who did this to you?"** It was his voice again. _Who is he? _She thought.

Rorschach had his chin on her head with his arms crossed behind her back. She was unresponsive and seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

"**Abby."** He said with an edge, hoping it would snap her awake. It didn't work.

She dreamed that she was a child again. Walter and her were playing together. She was chasing him as they played tag when she fell down. He came back and picked her up. Abby jumped into a hug with him and she felt his large embrace around her. He vanished.

She searched desperately for him. And looked behind herself to see a man in a long brown trench coat. It was him. She could see his red hair under the fedora hat he was wearing. Abby ran to him, but found that no matter how many steps she took, she never got closer.

It began to darken, she whispered his name as the black swallowed him up.

She started to move, her muscles began twitching back to life as blood began flowing warmer blood through her system. Her voice was soft and mumbling, and it shook him to the core. He cared about her. He wanted her to live, she was a good person. The filthy world that Rorschach knew would become a dimmer place if her light were extinguished.

He could feel her coming back again, stronger than last time. He framed her face with his gloved hands and stared at her face through his mask. Her eyes opened from the darkness of her dream to the morphing black and white ink blot.

"Ror….shcach…" she etched out of her blue lips she inhaled feeling from her opening senses. She could feel his body pressed against her tightly. The musky scent of him, the heat from his breath as he exhaled and inhaled.

"**Who did this to you?**" his voice was husky from having her so close to him. Too close.

"Robert… the gang… at the bar… in Harry's… Happy Harry's…" It was the Mafioso family that Rorschach had been tracking. They were an Italian family gang whose counts range from the extortion and black mail of officials in the city to supplying drugs to dealers on the streets. Their influence ran all the way up to the mayor and the police department, while their historical roots stretched back in the twenties during the prohibition. It all traced back to them.

Rorschach released his arms and pulled the covers from him and folded them on her.

"Wait!" she said with sudden energy. The outburst tired her out, she breathed unevenly as she tired to summon up the strength to tell him of the trap that awaited him.

"**Evil needs to be punished. Revenge must be taken."** _It must be taken on your part._

"No…. please…" her pitiful voice whined out, tears began welling up. "You can't…. I need you." The last words made him stop.

"**Walter is dead. Died a homeless man on the streets, long ago."** Rorschach regretted his lie. There could be no connection between them. He left her crying on his bed. It was for the better.

The world was painted in a stark black and white for Rorschach. He is sworn to an oath, just as she was.


	9. Confrontation

_Was there no justice in the world? Why do good men die?_

_He was homeless… and he died… alone on the streets….._ She felt guilty for enjoying her cozy home with so much money she had no idea what to do with. Tears streamed down her face as her chest ached with remorse.

_Why?...Why?!_

"Rorschach…?"

"Evil needs to be punished. Revenge must be taken." His words echoed.

Abby's eyes filled with tears again. _Am I to loose him too? Why God?_

_No!_ she though with a mad, tenacious grit_. Not again…. I won't loose someone again._ Her blond hair was dark from being wet. She pulled at the edge of the bed and fell off the mattress. She crawled along the creaking hardwood floor to the space heater in the corner. She used it to stand on her feet. Her knees buckled as he arms threatened to give out.

Abby remembered Walter and felt empowered by his upstanding nature. She was going to save Rorschach in his memory.

Rorschach wasn't sure if the sun was rising or setting. The eerie golden twilight glowed the concrete and asphalt of the city. He made it to the bar and slammed the door off its hinges when he entered.

Without breaking a stride he went up to Jim and held him by his collar.

"**Not fucking around anymore. Tell me, or I'll break your body this time."** Jim recalled the pain of Rorschach breaking his arm after the doctor left very well.

"Same place, same time." He said too quickly. Normally Rorschach would have seen the stares of the other patrons as knowing orbs of his impending snare. But, his mind was occupied. He threw him over the bar and left out the back door.

Abby's feet pounded against the ground. It was unforgiving on her unfeeling pads, there were cuts and pricked holes from sharp little pieces of gravel. She didn't care, his life was at stake. She was nearing the dock they had mentioned. It was by the bridge she had been tossed in to die.

The warehouse was an abandoned boat repair shop that had closed long since, the dock being the area where the boats were tied in. Abby saw his form stealth around the perimeter. She wanted to yell out for him to stop, but knew that would only make them aware of his presence.

Rorschach snapped the neck of a few guards and slipped under a tarp. He watched Robert Mafioso smoke his cigarette. The Italian gangster had a revolver in his hands and he could see the outline of a pair of brass knuckles in his breast pocket.

Abby kept low and walked as fast and as quiet as she could. The guards were on the floor, their necks at odd angles suggesting they were snapped. She averted her eyes and hid between the wall of the warehouse and some stacked boxes. To her left, there was a jumbled heap of rotting wood. Upon close inspection, she found it was the same wood she pulled out of Rorschach.

She looked up and saw that he must have fell at least a story down onto a broken palate. The footfalls of a man sprinting down the steps from the roof sounded. He passed by Abby, holding a pager in his hand.

Rorschach saw one of Robert's men run up. Robert's eyes grew wide at his news. His father had died. He turned his back on him and slicked his hair down. He took a drag of his cigarette and flicked it away.

"Any sign of him, yet?" Robert asked.

"Let me check."

"Wait." The man stopped. "I don't want you to kill him. Let him live, I want to cut that fucker to pieces before he goes."

She had no idea what she was doing. It was ridiculous to think that she could help Rorschach take on a gang. She was a doctor, not a police officer. Abby made it to the roof top and over looked the edge. She wanted to help. She never wanted to see another one die in her hands.

Robert stared out in the water as it snaked off into the horizon. The tall city buildings were lined along the banks.

"I know you're here. Come out. Now." He turned to see Rorschach standing there. His lucid presence set Robert over the edge.

"Your dead, you hopeless fuck." He was expecting his men to show up, to cripple his arrogance.

He was silent. Robert's grin faded. The pager vibrated on his belt. Rorschach watched him look at the green screen.

"… you killed them all?"

"**And you're next."** Robert went into a rage, he threw himself at Rorschach. He side stepped him and watched as he tumbled to the ground. This only aggravated him even more. Robert ran at him again and tried to punch him, Rorschach dodged left and pivoted his next fist.

This went on. Robert screamed inaudibly and grabbed the pistol to aim it at his head. Rorschach grabbed the gun and twisted, he screamed and it dropped to the floor. Rorschach used both hands to crank his arm while stepping behind him, breaking all the joints up to his shoulder.

Abby watched the fight from above. She was enthralled by how in control he was, Rorschach was toying with him. She crouched from the sounds of cars rolling up. She peered over the edge and saw that the two didn't notice the cavalry arriving.

Rorschach punched him in the face, leaving a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth down to his chin. He gave a final kick to his abdomen and sent him flying. Rorschach was already planning how to kill him. First he was going to break the rest of his limbs and then tie him up and throw him into the river, giving only brief instances of air before he cuts the line and watch him writhe around before he sinks to the bottom of the river.

Five men filed out of the car and drew their weapons. Rorschach grabbed their leader and held him in a head lock before him as a shield.

"**Throw them down." **

"Don't listen to this shit!" Robert screamed, his face stained with blood while he held onto his limp arm. "Kill him!"

The men paused. They all swore and oath to their don to always do what to they could to protect him and his family. They all looked up to Robert, he was the sort of man who treated his family and friends well and regarded the rest of the city like the trash that they were.

One threw his gun down. The others followed suit and raised their hands in the air. Robert yelled at their defiance and stomped down on his captor's foot. Rorschach was too fast and he gave him a rabbit punch to the gut.

Upon seeing this, the gangsters drew out their knives and rushed forward. He may be a dangerous adversary, but it was obvious he could not take on everyone at once.

Rorschach tossed Robert at the first one and knocked the weapon from the second. Rorschach grabbed one's hand and wrenched his arm backwards to stab himself. Two came at him and he used one's momentum and tossed him over and kicked the other in both knees.

The two men were on the ground. His foot cracked into the man's temple and he was no more. The other on the ground began to reach for his knife to get up, his movements lazy from the daze of being thrown. Rorschach positioned himself behind him and snapped his neck. Robert escaped the scene as the rest of his men were being beaten to death.

One of them had grabbed their gun again as Rorschach sprinted forward and held his neck in a lock. He struggled against his inhuman strength and passed out. Rorschach threw him in the river.

Walter looked to his left, he couldn't find Robert.

The last one of Robert's men had been cowardly hiding, watching the others being killed. With his back turned, he risked reaching out his hand and grabbed a gun.

"Rorschach, watch out!"

As he turned to look up, he caught the man out of the corner of his eye. Rorschach dodged the bullet and he retrieved his grappling gun. He shot it above the man and pulled a stack of pallets over him. His scream was muted and then silenced.

Rorschach's eyes met the sight of a distraught and messy haired Abby. She was wearing his coat, it seemed to be a few sizes too big for her. She smiled and sheepishly waved at him. Walter smiled. He wanted to tell her how much of a fool she was for doing this, and to thank her for doing so.

Abby turned suddenly and froze there. Robert held the handle of the knife that was stabbed into her stomach. Her brown eyes went wide as her pupils contacted to pinpoints. His hand was pressed against her as he twisted the blade, tearing her arteries and inners. She gripped his arm, as if to try and get away. He took a step forward, retracted the blade only to thrust it in harder. She tried to call for help, but only a bubble of crimson passed her lips. Robert tossed her over the ledge.

Rorschach watched in horror as she fell and hit the ground like a ragdoll. He ran to her side. Robert mouthed two words: We're even.

Abby was looking at the side of the warehouse now. The paint was discolored and flaking off the sides. She could feel the blood seeping from her wounds, slipping through the cracks of the dock and dripping into the water.

Rorschach turned her head to look at him. He looked into her eyes and saw fear. Rorschach didn't know what to say. She was dying in his arms. He could almost feel her ebbing away.

He pulled the mask from his face. Walter saw her eyes expand and grow soft, she grabbed his shirt with a red soaked hand. He slid his gloved hand across her blond hair. He always wanted to do that, ever since he saw her golden locks in the sun when he was a young boy. Walter felt her grip loosen. His dark eyes met her face, her eyes glazed over. Her hand fell down to her side.


	10. What Happens Next

Rorschach Journal, October 11, 1985

Mafioso family was dispatched today. Robert Mafioso drowned, his father died of heart failure. The rest of the gang were either dead, retired, or drunks and transients. Must keep vigilance, new gang sure to fill up the still warm gaping seat of newly vacated control.

Abigail Mary Linde died today.

*

He stared at the last line for a long time, not knowing what to write next. Something rubbed on his leg. He looked down to see the spotted cat stare up at him with large emerald eyes. Rorschach drove his attention away from the animal and tried to think of what to write next. He felt a knot in his throat and tried to swallow it down. His eyes burned and he squeezed them shut. Something hot dampened the corners of face.

_She's gone. Forever. _

Walter balled his fists so tight, his tendons ached. Vivid images of her smiling face melded with the blood of her dying in his arms. He heard her voice in his head, calling him Walter and Rorschach at the same time, over and over again. He tugged his hat down and folded the edges over his ears to try and make the noises stop, to get away from the pangs of guilt eating up his insides.

He breathed in short gasps as his shoulders shook slightly. He looked up and took his face off again, feeling the night air caress his warm face. The cat rubbed on his leg again. He looked down to see nothing there. He never saw it again...

…"You know I can't let you do that." It was Manhattan. His ethereal blue body was between him and the truth.

He takes off his mask and looks at him in what was his eyes, "Of course. Must protect Veidt's new utopia. One more body amongst foundations makes little difference. Well? What are you waiting for? Do it."

"Rorschach..." His voice was sad, it was always sad. Rorschach screams in reply, without his mask and tears erupting from his eyes, "Do it!"

He was thinking of her.


End file.
